


Warming Up

by Dalasport



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Archery, Friendship, Gen, Kalmar Union, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalasport/pseuds/Dalasport
Summary: My submission to Nordipalooza Fanwork Fest 2019Prompt: Finland, Iceland - Warming up (Kalmar Union or 1900's)Tino arrives at his new home after the signing of the Kalmar Union. His first encounter with Eiríkur is not what he expects it to be, but he has ways of making people warm up quickly.





	Warming Up

Tino had just arrived to the nation of Denmark, once again having been shuffled off to move with all his belongings to live in an alliance with other countries. This time it was the Kalmar Union, formed with the intent of strengthening the north. Tino had his doubts, but it was not like he had much say in the matter.

  
As soon as they had stepped foot into their new house, Berwald had showed him his room and wordlessly left him to adjust. To be honest, Tino didn’t care for this adjustment period, and simply wanted to go back to his home country. The tug of his homeland was ever present in his chest, and the further away he went, the stronger the pull became. Nations were not meant to live away from their people for this long.

  
Tino sighs as he puts down his large trunk. The horse ride had been long and his back was sore. He didn’t mind sleeping on the ground under the stars but the sight of a bed and the hearth next to it makes him smile.

  
After haven gotten settled in his room, he decides to try to find his new housemates. He hadn’t seen Lukas or Matthias in a while, so he was looking forward to talking to them again.

  
The house was somehow much warmer than he had anticipated it would be. When he had visited, he had always gone to Matthias’ house in Roskilde, but this house was just outside the city, closed off by a small forest and only a 10 minute walk from the ocean. On two floors, it was more than enough for all the residents and the surrounding area was well adjusted for the life of a nation. A stable for the horses, a training ground and even an armory for their weapons.

  
The familiar swoosh of an arrow shooting through the air and hitting mark drew him to the training grounds where a teenager with silvery white hair stands in front of targets made from compacted hay bales, a longbow in hand and a quiver on his back. The teen hadn’t noticed Tino yet and the Finn watches as the kid reaches for an arrow from his quiver and draws it back with flawless accuracy, shooting it straight into the center of his makeshift target. The teenager sighs, lowering his bow and relaxing his stance. He rolls the quiver off his shoulder and allows it to drop to the ground, the arrows rattling noisily at the act. As he looks up he spots Tino watching, and the Finn waves guiltily. The grimace on the boy’s face shows that he does not appreciate being spied on.

  
“Hey there,” Tino begins in Swedish, waving slightly as he approaches the boy. “You must be Iceland, correct?”

  
The boy raises a brow, answering in Norwegian, “How do you know that?”

  
“Your hair,” Tino says cheerily, happy that they can communicate without language barriers. “It’s kinda telling.”

  
“And who are you?” the Icelander asks, eyes cold and wary.

  
“Ahh, excuse my rudeness, I’m Finland,” he smiles warmly as he extends his hand towards the kid. “But you can call me Tino.”

  
The Icelander inspects the hand for a moment before taking it in his and giving it a timid shake. Tino’s smile only grows warmer.

  
“Eiríkur,” the boy mumbles as he quickly retracts his hand.

  
“Nice to meet you, Eiríkur.”

  
The Icelander doesn’t reply, but clutches his bow tighter and looks to the targets on the other end of the field.

  
“You want to continue practicing, I get it,” Tino says calmly. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  
Eiríkur shrugs, picking up his quiver from the ground before resuming his stance. Tino quickly disappears into the armory and comes out shortly after with a short sword. “It seems like you have the only bow on the compound there,” he says with a laugh. “The only thing left in there are swords and shields.”

  
Eiríkur draws another arrow back and shoots it straight to the center again, barely blinking as he pulls up another one and gets ready to send it flying. “It’s my personal set,” he says as he releases the arrow, allowing a tiny smile as it hits its mark once again. The target’s center is getting very crowded with arrows at this point. “Dan doesn’t like archery, says it’s a coward’s weapon.” Eiríkur lowers his bow and tilts his head to the ground.

  
Tino frowns.

  
“I don’t agree with that statement,” Tino says thoughtfully. “Each person has to evaluate their personal strength and weaknesses. Especially nations like us.” Tino walks closer to the teen, asking silently for permission to test out the bow. Eiríkur hands it over without a word, curiosity in his eyes as he watches Tino take his place. He raises the bow and pulls an arrow back. “I think it’s a mark of intelligence to stick to what works for you.” He grins over his shoulder, a twinkle in his eyes as he sends the arrow flying straight into the target’s center.

  
Eiríkur can’t hold back the smile that appears on his face as Tino turns around for his silent applause, bowing mockingly to each side with a wide smile. He hands back the bow and is happy to see that Eiríkur doesn’t lose the smile as he takes it.

  
“With that being said,” Tino adds as he goes to pick up the sword he left on the ground. “Doesn’t mean you can’t train yourself for every scenario.” He turns to the Icelander and motions to the sparring grounds. “Wanna go a few rounds?”

  
Eiríkur seems uncertain, hesitance clear as he eyes the sword in the Finn’s hands. “I don’t know, I’m not really supposed to.”

  
Tino smiles invitingly to the teen. “I say that’s all the more reason to.”

  
Eiríkur looks up from the sword to Tino’s kind face, before nodding. Tino hands him the sword and Eiríkur can’t help but feel excitement build in the pit of his stomach as he follows the man to the ring, where Tino pick up a new sword. The first clang the sword makes as it collides with another makes Eiríkur’s heart race and breath quicken. It was a rush that he had never felt with his bow in hand. He decided he enjoyed it a lot.

 

 

In the entrance of the house stand three men, all watching quietly as the Finn and Icelander spar with each other, yelps and laughs in the air as the two bounce on their feet around each other.

  
“I thought you said Ice took long to warm up to strangers,” the tallest man says as he watches the kid tumble onto his back, his cheeks red and brows furrowed as the Finn laughs heartily.

  
“I did,” the shortest of the three speaks up in a mellow voice.

  
“I thought you also said you didn’t want him around swords,” the third man says with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. He is clearly satisfied with the sight.

  
“I will talk to him later. For now, let’s leave them be.” With that he turns tail and disappears into the house. The other two follow suit.

  
It is safe to say, all three of them are hopeful for the future of this alliance.


End file.
